Living in a hot, humid climate makes the slow progression to Autumn all the more beloved. People can go outdoors again without risking heat exhaustion, dehydration, or fear of spontaneous combustion.
It’s a sweet little season that usually last from late September to Early November. Yes, there will still be really hot days once in a while, but mostly it’s temperate, and we get an anomaly known to other parts of the world called a “breeze.” It reminds me of childhood summers in Oklahoma, where there seems to always be a breeze, and you know it’s there because you can feel it on your hairs, and your face, and your neck: you can hear it in the leaves that sound like muted castanets, and the wind chimes ring, arisen from their summer dormancy. You can smell the change that is coming because you notice a musty smell, as green foliage starts to decompose.
It is in this season, this wonderful season, that I love being a Southerner, with all it’s contradictions. I love being a maker, a crafter, an artisan, too, because I’m am inspired by the changes taking place and the way they awaken my senses.
Our small city is alive with festivals and fairs. Indeed, this whole state wakens from its sweaty slumber, wipes it brow, and celebrates. And if you can look beyond the surface, with an eye for history, you can see and feel the celebrations of the old days: village fairs, autumnal equinox celebrations, events of athletic competition, wares for sell, communities gather outdoors, and there is marching, and sharing, and face-to-face communication. A spell has been lifted, and we are alive again!
It’s in the midst of change I feel the most joyful and alive. And it’s something I can depend on. The seasons will change. Just hold on a little longer.
Stormy Monday 